


Blood Oath

by lisachan



Category: Ancient Egyptian Religion
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:08:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22822303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisachan/pseuds/lisachan
Summary: Seth killed Osiris. No one knows why, but he did, and now he disappeared, and Isis and Nephthys are left with the ruins of their family and with a madness eating Isis up from the inside.
Relationships: Isis/Nephthys/Osiris/Set, Isis/Osiris, Nephthys/Osiris
Kudos: 6
Collections: COW-T - the Clash Of the Writing Titans





	Blood Oath

**Author's Note:**

> I just.
> 
> (Written for this week's COWT #10, M2, prompt: _Egyptian religion_. I just had no idea what to write, so I started reading about Isis and Osiris story and... well, that's what came out.)

Nephthys reluctantly helps Isis climb the iron gates of the graveyard, but she can’t help feeling this is going to turn out a big mistake. Their lives have spiraled out of control and they’re doing nothing to try and put themselves together. Since Seth killed Osiris and disappeared it’s been complete madness, and Nephthys knows part of it is her fault too. She’s doing nothing to help her sister walk her way back to sanity – but she can’t deny her anything, not when she’s in such a state. Whenever Isis turns to look at her and asks for something with those empty, grief-stricken eyes, she just can’t say no. 

Maybe it’s because she’s the weakest of the four of them. Seth marched his way into life alone and defiant, he could never be steered away from his path; Isis and Osiris have always been together, born together, loving each other since before they were born, and their unity was their strength, and also their mortal weakness, but still that unity is what gives Isis the strength to walk this crazy path no matter what; Nephthys never had any of that – she was always alone and weak, and she still is, despite everything.

They lost one brother to madness and another to death. She’s losing another sister to mourning. And she still can’t do a thing to stop this from happening.

“Isis,” she tries anyway as she climbs the gate after her sister, “This is madness. It’s not gonna work. We must stop and go back home.”

“Never,” Isis says grimly, landing softly on the ground, “Come on. It’s almost midnight.”

Isis decided she’s going to resurrect Osiris, and she was very clear about needing Nephthys to make it happen. Magic has always run in their family, like blood. They got it from their mother, who was able to turn her skin into a starry sky while she prayed her Gods. For some reason, when they were born her magic was split between the four of them, and instead of becoming weaker, like all fractures things do, it became stronger. Nephthys was always able to feel it cackle underneath her skin, she heard it vibrate in Osiris’ voice, she smelled it in Isis’ violent scent and she saw it dancing in flickers in Seth’s eyes.

Their magic has always bound them together. Nephthys could hear it, sometimes, like the returning echo of a distant song. It was like she sang the first verse and then one of her brothers or her sister answered with the following.

That was until Osiris’ song died. Until Seth killed it.

And now the melody’s gone and there’s a deafening silence instead of it, driving them all crazy. And Isis is the one who’s affected the most by it.

“Isis,” Nephthys tries to talk her out of this, while following her between statues, mausoleums and tombstones, “It’s gonna be useless. We’re not strong enough. We were never strong enough to resurrect people. We would have felt it, otherwise. We would’ve done something to bring back mom and dad.”

“It’s not the same,” Isis answers stubbornly as she marches deep into the graveyard, her long black cotton skirt inflating and deflating with every step she takes, her short ebony hair, trimmed in a nice bob, bouncing on her shoulders. “We’re linked, Oz and I. I’m gonna bring him back. For sure.”

“Yeah,” Nephthys mutters, “If you’re so connected, why do you need me at all, then?”

Isis stops in the middle of the gravel path and then slowly turns to look at her. There’s living fire in her eyes and for a second she looks so similar to Seth Nephthys fears she’s gonna kill her on the spot. She’s outraged that Nephthys would dare to doubt her connection to Osiris, the mere thought makes her furious.

But then she calms down, and her violet eyes stop shining with the flames of rage, to shine simply with the reflection of the moon and stars. “You were connected to him too,” she finally says, lowering her eyes, “I saw the two of you, one time.”

Nephthys freezes on the spot, staring at her, wide-eyed and terrified. She had no idea Isis knew. “...it was just that one time,” she tries to justify herself.

Isis stops her, though, shaking her head. “You don’t have to explain,” she says, “I know.”

And it’s true. She knows. The magic calling one another close, the inheritance their parents left them with. That magnet they all have, buried deep at the bottom of their soul. The very thing that brought Isis and Osiris together, the thing that connects Isis and her, her and Seth, Isis and Seth, the same thing that pushed Seth and Osiris one against the other again and again until they collided.

Strong enough to love for. Strong enough to die for.

Probably strong enough to come back from the dead for too.

She finally decides to stop fighting this. Isis wants to resurrect Osiris? Well, fine. If she can help, she’s gonna help. She misses Oz too. He was the big brother Seth could never truly be – he was warm and cuddly, he was brave and smart, he was kind, he had soft hands and a softer smile, his kisses tasted sweet and a little wild, and if she can choose between living in a world without Osiris in it and living in one where he can still walk the Earth, she’s gonna choose the latter.

They get to the tomb in a few minutes. It’s a simple marble stone carrying their brother’s name, the day he was born and the day he died. There’s an inscription, underneath. Just one word - _beloved_.

Isis kneels on the loose earth before the stone and touches it lightly with the tip of her fingers. Nephthys would have expected her to cry, but she doesn’t. She takes a few minutes, breathing the night air in and out through her nose, and then she starts digging.

It’s a gruesome process. She scratches her fingers, looses her nails, she bleeds and she screams, she covers herself in dirt and mud, but she doesn’t stop. She never stops. At some point she starts yelling. “I’m almost there, I’m almost there, I’m here!”, and that’s when her knuckles hit the wooden lid of the coffin.

By that time, she’s breathing so heavily she can barely talk. “Help,” she wheezes, and Nephthys gets on the ground with her and with her pulls Osiris’ coffin out of the earth.

It weighs like the Earth and sky, it’s like trying to lift the ocean. They manage, though, and then Isis screams when she sees the nails keeping the lid shut.

“Isis...” Nephthys calls her, reaching out for her, “Stop. You can’t open it.”

But Isis screams again and closes her bloody, wrecked fingers around the edge of the lid, pulling and pulling, and some strength from a different world comes to her aid, sparkles making the air electric, and the lid finally breaks and she can throw it away – and there Osiris is, or what’s left of him, his body, perfectly motionless, pale, intact.

That’s when Isis starts crying – upon seeing him. She bends over his body and cries and sobs, she touches his soft dark hair, just like her own, she caresses his expressionless face.

“Help,” she says again, reaching out for her sister with one hand, “Help me.”

Broken and desperate, Nephthys holds her hand and thinks with all her heart that she wants to help her. She wants to fix her broken sister, she wants to bring back her dead brother, she wants to cure from whatever insanity caught him their older brother. She wants them to be, once again, like they were when they were children, and the world was theirs, and they had all that future, all that future they didn’t even know what to do with. She wants back those long afternoons they spent morphing small critters into different beings, showing the divinity inside them, she wants back that wonderful night when, holding hands and kissing each other, they bent the course of the river running next to their old house and made the water flow in the opposite direction.

She wants everything back and she’s willing to pay with her magic for it, and the moment she thinks that she opens her eyes and Oz does the same, and Isis gasps and bends over to kiss him desperately, clinging to him.

“We have only minutes,” she whimpers against his lips. Osiris looks at her, confused, but then his eyes brighten up, and he’s here, he knows, and he nods.

There’s life inside him, but it’s temporary.

Isis climbs into the coffin, on his lap, frantically tugging at the dusty clothes he’s been buried with, and that’s when Nephthys decides to turn around and look away. She hears everything, though. Their moans, their whispers. Their declaration of undying love. Their goodbye.

“I’ll bring you back,” Isis whimpers, crying like a baby, while Osiris closes his eyes one last time, “Next time for real. For sure. You will be back with me. I swear.”

Nephthys turns back towards them. Osiris is a corpse once again, and Isis is covered in dirt and blood. Her hair are messy, she smells of their brother and of a mysterious, powerful magic, and of something else, something Nephthys can’t quite detect.

“Help me up, Neph, please,” Isis asks, and Nephthys comes to help her, pulling her up on her feet. She dusts her clothes and her hair, she cleans her face with kisses, eating dirt from her rounded cheeks. It tastes metallic, electric and salty. 

“We can’t try this again,” she says as she helps Isis put back the lid on the coffin and pushing back the coffin into the earth.

“We won’t,” Isis shakes her head, “It would be useless, anyway. This was not the kind of magic I needed to bring him back.”

“There is no magic to bring him back, Izzy.”

“There _is_ ,” her sister corrects her, stubbornly, “An eye for an eye. A life for a life.”

Nephthys stops moving to turn towards her. “You can’t be serious,” she utters weakly, “He’s our brother too.”

“He was Oz’s brother too, but that didn’t stop him,” Isis says, mercilessly, “He’s gonna get what’s coming for him.” Then she turns to look at her, sternly. “Don’t try to stop me. I love you, but not enough to let you.”

Nephthys swallows, taking the hint. She lowers her eyes. She should be angry, she thinks. Instead, she’s just mortally sad. “It won’t be enough,” she says, “You aren’t stronger than him. Our magic is equal. You will fight him and you will both die. And I will be left with nothing.”

Isis forces a small smile on her lips as she reaches out, stroking her shoulder. “It won’t be me fighting him, but someone much, much stronger,” she says.

Isis doesn’t get what she means, until she lovingly strokes her belly. Then she gets it and her eyes water. “How are you gonna call him?” she says, sensing it’s gonna be a boy.

“Horus,” Isis says, “The Falcon. The one above. He’s gonna find him. He’s gonna beat him. He’s gonna take him to me, and I will use him to bring Oz back. This I swear on our blood, sister. _On our blood_.”

There is no oath stronger than that.


End file.
